And Then You Think
It’s like voting
for Republicans
year after year
and never making the connection
it ‘s like growing up in Lake Hiawatha
where the Indians were killed off
the polluted lake filled in
long ago
it’s like wondering
if Peace for Galilee means
the invasion of Lebanon
how come making love isn’t a war crime
it’s like the moon and the stars
as you say goodbye to your friend
and then head home to
separate ghettoes
it’s like learning it costs the same
to send a kid to prison as to college
so asking why the kid can’t
just be sent to college
its’s like the glitter of the rich
buying mazeratis
and the sound of the nothingness
trickling down
it’s like a benefit
for breast cancer research
sponsored by the Dow Chemical
Company
It’s like a war
from the folks who brought you
the war
to end all wars
It’s like watching the news one night
amid the layoffs of your life
and stumbling upon
the presidential candidates debate:
“I’m running for President
because I believe
with strong leadership
America’s glorious days
will always lie ahead of us,
just as they lie
ahead of us
now…..”
the way things sound
smooth and deep,
and then you think ---
--by Chris Butter. Originally published in Blue Collar Review (Spring 2011). Used with permission.
Remember
(In memory of Juliano Mer Khamis)
our paths
never crossed
work
mind
ideology
daily
I’m sure
artist
teacher
director
advocate
intellect
father
son
funny man
much more
5 bullets
casings on the floor
blood painting the pavement
masked gunman gone
people chattering
fingers pointing
Israeli media
and politicians
sharpening knives
won’t let him rest
five minutes
before digging in
for points
serving an agenda
he fought daily
won’t let his kids
process
breathe
mourn
break down
gasp for breath
don’t know
what runs through
someone’s veins
before that trigger
is pulled
what excuse
what idea
allowed
oxygen to enter
that motion
wanted to meet you
shake hands
share coffee
say
keep working
it is appreciated
it is loved
it is felt
now
rest in peace
rest assured
your memory will
be a theater
open nights
until justice is served
freedom is brought
and a stage is set
that pities this landscape
--by Remi Kanazi. Kanazi is a Palestinian-American poet, writer, and activist living in New York City. He is the editor of Poets For Palestine and the author of the newly released collection of poetry and CD, Poetic Injustice: Writings on Resistance and Palestine. For more information, visit www.PoeticInjustice.net.
